Escape
by x.Dancing.Queen.x
Summary: When Gemma and Kartik meet in modern-day North America, something sparks between the two that can't be ignored. But Gemma has a dark secret that threatens to keep them apart, while Kartik harbours a troubled past that he can't escape. *Adult Themes*
1. Spark

I rummaged in my purse madly as my heels made click-clacking noises on the sidewalk, adding yet another sound to the general noise of the city around me. Those noises seemed to be the loudest in the world as I grabbed a tube of lip-gloss out of my bag and applied it absently, smacking my lips when I was done. I'd barely checked my make-up on the way out the door and it seemed liked every glance at me was a critical one. Not that it would matter once I got to work.

In the scarce lighting of the club, I'd practically be invisible. People didn't pay much attention to the bartender's eye-shadow anyway. I'd been working at _Red _for over six months now, and the only real attention I`d gotten was a few drunken yells from the idiotic men I served night after night. They focused mostly on the girls, though, since that was what they were paying for.

A strip club had never been my idea of the perfect workplace environment, but _Red _turned out to be my kind of gig, believe it or not. As I pushed the heavy employee door open the smell of alcohol and perfume almost seemed like home. A friendly smile from my boss, Scarlett, completed the picture.

Scarlett was in her late thirty`s and dressed younger than me, with short skirts and tight shirts. She didn`t wear make-up and always pulled her black hair into a high ponytail for work, where it stayed for hours on end.

`Hey, Gemma,`she said as I walked by, giving me a smack on the ass. My real mother never did that, but she didn`t exactly give me raises, either.

The music from the club drowned out my reply as I walked through another door and emerged into the nightlife, where I had to stop and let my eyes adjust to the sudden darkness. Muted lights occasionally brightened among the crowd of people, highlighting random body parts. The club was filling up quickly tonight, and already there were people starting to drift towards the bar.

I closed the door behind me and reached over, searching the wall for the light switch. My fingers scrambled over it until I finally flicked it upwards, igniting dozens of carefully placed lights over my working area.

The bar was large and nicely furnished, with loads of vodka and other supplies hidden in the many cupboards. Those lights were a mixture of white and red that gave me just enough light to work, and they set off cool reflections from the glasses stacked everywhere. As soon as the bar was illuminated, heads turned towards it and even more bodies surged forwards.

I approached the actual counter, kicking off my four-and-a-half-inch heels as I did so. It wasn't as if the customers ever noticed my footwear anyway. I was already wearing my "uniform", a deep red halter top with form-fitting black jeans. Basically, I had to wear red. My dark titian hair was done simply in a ponytail, with bobby pins structuring it carefully. I wore earrings shaped like white peace signs that dangled from my ears, and a white belt featuring a buckle with the same symbol. My formerly mentioned make-up was totally unnoticeable as I approached the first customer. He seemed normal enough and I thanked God that the crazies hadn't decided to visit yet. Of course, they would come in a couple of hours.

The night wore by as I mixed hundreds of drinks for people that could have done without them, handing them out time after time with a smile and a suggestive comment that translated into: "Come back for more."

There was a huge stage on he other side of the club, which I never even looked at anymore since half naked girls aren't my favourite choice of entertainment. Several raised platforms stood out among the crowd with poles raised out of them all the way to the roof. One by one these poles became occupied with more desperate women, twisting themselves around the metal for tips.

I never really talked to any of the strippers, but according to Scarlett there was no reason to. They came and went most of the time, working here for a year maximum before moving on or finding real jobs. _Red _was the biggest club in the city, so moving on from here meant that they had places to go, and wouldn't need to make friends with the lady who mixed the drinks.

I knew the stage names of some of them, obviously, but those were just titles for men to call out at them all night long. I was content to stick with Gemma and just bartend at the hottest place within a hundred miles of my apartment. It was fun enough, since there could be some pretty hilarious drunks around. Weeknights were my personal favourites since business was slow and the only customers were guys with nothing else to do or people coming to visit Scarlett.

This was Saturday night, though, and the whole place was throbbing with a fast beat. The crowd surged along with it, moving like a sea of heads to the music. The girls rubbed themselves around in places I'd never look at, let alone touch, and people arrived quicker that on any other night.

One guy came up to the bar and promptly told me what he wanted to do with my breasts and then staggered off with a silly grin on his face to harass the strippers. I was barely offended. The jerk probably wouldn`t even remember it when he woke up on his friend's couch the next morning.

At around two I was still pumping out drinks like a vending machine, accepting loads of tips and growing bags under my eyes. I didn't really feel tired yet, but when three o`clock rolled around I definitely would. Three-thirty, and I was slouching. Three forty-five, my eyelids batted pathetically. Less and less customers.

Finally I got a long break from the flow of people and leaned against the bar, half-ready to fend off that same guy who was checking me out again. I barely noticed as a young man walked up and sat down on a bar stool almost right in front of me. I perked up a little as he looked over the neon-highlighted menu hanging over my head.

The guy looked just over twenty, about my age, and had beautifully dark skin and big eyes. I couldn't tell what colour they were, but they seemed like huge brown orbs as he gazed upwards. His hair was a little disheveled, sticking out in cute tufts like a broken halo. He seemed much to innocent to be hanging around a strip club at quarter to four in the morning. I straightened my back anyway and walked over, the soles of my feet hurting.

"Know what you'd like?" My voice sounded strange to my own ears, but he seemed unbothered.

"I'll have a paralyzer," he said smoothly, glancing at me shortly before turning his eyes back to the list of drinks. I nodded and went to work on it, thinking of how his gaze had lingered on me for just a second when he thought I wasn't looking.

His handsome face seemed to be on the verge of erupting into a grin, but whatever was funny, I sure wasn't seeing it. I was dead tired and hungry as well. At least having something to do cheered me up.

I handed him his drink when it was done, glancing backwards at the tiny digital clock installed in the bar. Scarlett wouldn't get a big one since she said it was bad for business if customers realized how long they'd been drinking, dancing and ogling naked women.

My shift was over at four, and the place was clearing out already. I slipped my shoes back on and stretched my arms, watching as men trickled out the door to face the rising sun. I mixed myself a margarita of some kind and slipped out from behind the bar, taking a seat next to the young guy. He glanced over at me as I sipped my drink, staring into space.

"You look like death," he commented idly, making me blink and then flush. I was a little shocked for a second, trying to muster a reply. "Thanks," I answered wryly, then in a more serious tone said, "I've been here for way longer than six hours, I swear."

He nodded and replied, "I know. Job-hunting isn't any better. It's worse than your actual profession, and you're not getting paid for it."

"Yeah. I'm so glad I can at least rot here with good pay. Took me forever to get this job."

"Really?" He sounded tired too, and I couldn't detect any sarcasm.

"Um-hm. It's a big place. You're just one of thousands of guys that visit this place to drool over naked girls that are mostly made of plastic anyway." He scoffed at me and replied, "Sorry, that's not exactly why I'm here. Unemployed, remember? Besides, strippers aren't exactly my type."

"So what _is_ your type?" I dared to ask the question as I sipped my drink carefully, half-wondering what the hell I was doing, flirting with this unfairly hot guy in the middle of a strip club.

He glanced at me smiled, an unbearably cute look of mischief playing on his features. "That all depends on what your type is." He raised an eyebrow at me and I watched his lips form a gentle smirk as he volleyed the conversation right back to me. My mood fell immediately and I felt the ghost of a smile that had been laid on my face disappear in an instant as his words struck me.

"Currently my type seems to be over-bearing and unloving," I said sourly, hating how my brows drew together at the thought of my boyfriend, Simon. The stranger looked sad, but mostly intrigued. "And?"

"Irritable, unsupportive, _stupid," _I added with a certain bitterness to my tone. "It's like he has to know what I'm doing at all times, and if he doesn't approve of it then I shouldn't go, and if I go anyway, he-" I cut myself off abruptly, immediately stopping as forbidden words almost slipped out of my mouth. I wanted to tell him so badly, but I held it in and denied myself the pleasure of sharing my secret.

_It's not even a secret, _I told myself. _Nothing bad is happening. _As the thought crossed my mind I hurriedly adjusted my shirt so that the swollen bruise on my hip wasn't showing anymore.

"He what?" The man was looking at me curiously and I blushed, turning away.

"N-Nothing. He doesn't do anything." The guy's face mirrored mine with a frown, but his was perplexed instead of angry. For a moment I was terrified that he'd push the matter and I'd let it all spill out, but he just glanced at me unreadably.

"Okay," he said, and I knew that he understood that something was wrong and I couldn't tell him. "Well, your type isn't exactly the norm, is it?"

That drew a tentative smile from me and lit a playful light in his eyes that danced about like a shooting star trapped in his irises. "Not quite," I answered. "You never told me what your type is." He looked up at the ceiling and then slowly let his eyes fall back to me. "I think I'll let you find out." The mystery made me feel childishly giddy, and I tried to cover it with another question.

"What do you do? Hot dog vendor? Department store manager?" He shook his head.

"How about DJ?"

That took me off guard, and for a second I sat there and just nodded slowly. He was giving me that slightly contemptuous smirk again, the one that made me feel like I didn't really know anything about anyone. "That'd make sense," I managed, and he turned back to his drink. "I hope so."

I followed suit and finished off my margarita, running back behind the bar to quickly grab my purse and leave my glass on the counter for tomorrow. I made sure that I hadn't forgotten anything as the stranger recklessly downed the rest of his drink. He set it down on the counter and watched idly as I retrieved it and placed it next to mine as I got ready to go. It was a little unnerving feeling his eyes follow me across the floor as I cleaned up a little, and when I finally turned towards the employee door he was still sitting there.

I glanced back at him and he slowly got up, facing towards the door. I was about to push through to the back of the club when his voice called me back. "Hey!"

I turned my head around and looked at him expectantly as he stood next to the bar. "I'm Kartik."

I did a horrible job of suppressing a grin as I replied without thinking: "Gemma." He nodded and smiled again before turning and walking right out of the club, leaving me there with hot ears and droopy eyes. After I stood there for a while, my senses returned and I swung the door open, passing through and leaving _Red _empty once again.

* * *

**Please review and tell me what you think! **

**.Queen.x**


	2. Oxygen

I avoided Simon's eyes as I tried to pick out a pair of shoes from my overflowing closet, ignoring his furious stare that was intimidating whether I could see at or not. I tried to look casual as I selected a pair of deep brown belly flats and added them to the 'maybe' pile. His presence was getting extremely unnerving, looming over me just a couple of metres away.

"What do you mean, you work at a _strip _club?" I sighed heavily and selected a pair of deep brown flats, dropping them into the "maybe" pile.

"I bartend at a club, Simon. You know that."

"You never told me what sort of club," he said angrily, "and now I find out that you spend your nights with _strippers?_"

Trying not to cringe, I turned my back to him and replied, "It's not like I strip or anything. I just mix drinks, and I like it there. The pay is good," I added, trying to convince him of the monetary gain. My boyfriend's scowl just deepened and he suddenly seemed twice as menacing.

_You're not afraid of him. _But I was. Suddenly I felt cornered inside the closet, with Simon basically blocking the entrance. His temper was rising noticably as I tried to come up with a good reason that he shouldn't be mad.

"That doesn't matter, Gemma. Why the _hell _would you work at that sort of place?" I started to answer him, but he just cut me off. "What is wrong with you? I thought you were at least smart enough to realize that strip clubs are disgusting, since you refuse to admit that bartending is the most lowly form of work to be found on the entire planet. Do you have to be such an _idiot_ all the time?"

I winced as his voice rose and the insults started, pounding in at my head and making my eyes water. I knew that it would be pathetic to cry, but his sharp words still hurt. "Simon, I-"

"Don't even speak! I'm sick and tired of hearing your whiny voice every time I'm telling you something! Just shut up!"

I tried to look dignified as the tears started gathering in my eyes again. Simon's small, icy eyes were piercing me as I fought to keep the waver out of my voice. "Simon, please calm down, it's just a job. Listen, I'll-"

Halfway through my sentence he surged forwards and grabbed my wrist, pinning it against the wall painfully. I cried out as he nearly threw me into the wall and turned my face away when he brought his close.

"I don't want to hear it. Stop being so useless and get yourself a real job." His words were venomous and full of hatred, letting loose the tears that had been locked away up until now. I tried to control myself but the wetness still leaked from my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. Simon ignored my weeping and stormed off, leaving me to sink to the floor and sit there until I could think again.

_I hate him. I hate you, _I tried to tell him in my head, but even there I was too afraid.

It so tempting to put my face in my hands and sob it all out, but I had to stay composed. Breaking down every time Simon lost his temper wouldn't help me any, and I had work in an hour. Crying would have to wait until later. Still, I sat there on the carpet for at least twenty minutes, shaking with hatred and sadness.

Finally I managed to haul myself up and pull on a pair of shoes, glad that I was already dressed for work: a loose red top that hung off of my shoulders and deep blue jeans. My hair was sure to be a little messed-up but I didn't care. I slunk out of the closet and into the bedroom, glaring at the bed that I'd have to share with Simon tonight. _I hate you. _

Tearing my gaze from the horrible room, I hurried out and tip-toed down the hallway, sneaking into the kitchen to grab a pear from the fridge. I knew that work wasn't for a good while yet, but on a whim I sped through the living room and to the front door, making sure that Simon wouldn't be able to hear me from the bathroom. I knew that if he caught me leaving things would go wrong very fast, and usually that stopped me from going without telling him first or leaving a note.

But something coursed through my veins that helped me out the door and into a long hallway that connected all of the apartments. I shut the door quietly behind me and headed for the elevator, trying not to think of what Simon would do to me when I got home.

* * *

_Kartik's POV_

I swivelled on my bar stool, trying to pretend thath my ass wasn't aching like hell from sitting so long. It was a little childish, I'll admit, but who wouldn't go a little crazy after an hour of something so incredibly boring as this? The strippers didn't entertain me nearly as much as they did the drunk fools throwing bills at them, and the current bartender was starting to look condescending as I spun around on my chair.

She rolled her eyes when I flashed her a charming grin and turned away to plunk down a messily made drink in front of a customer. I'd already noted that her mixing was sloppy, and it was obvious that the only reason the drinkers kept returning for more was because they knew that otherwise spending the night in a strip club would seem pathetic. They all scooped up their Black Barracudas and Dry Martini's and melted away, merging back into the crowd and only resurfacing to order another drink in hopes that it might be better than the last.

The bartender tried to encourage them, but her smile was fake and her eyes looked dead, drowned in mascara and eyeliner. According to her nametag, I should have been calling her Laticia, but for all I knew it could have been Agnus or Eugenia or something unnatractive that couldn't be announced to paying customers. She seemed like more of a Unis than a Laticia, anyway.

"Hey, Sullen and Ungrateful," I said loudly, and her head snapped around as she glared at me. "Why do you come to work every night if you'd rather be enduring Chinese Water Torture?"

Her eyes smoldered as she snapped, "My name's Laticia, and obviously _you _only came to be an annoying, stuck-up jerk." I widened my eyes mockingly and gasped, adding some extra theatrics as I pretended to be shocked.

"My, my," I scolded her. My expression became teasing. "Someone woke up this morning and decided that the whole world was her bitch."

Her face turned dangerous and I almost rethought provoking her, but the feeling evaporated as she pointed towards the "employees only" door behind her and said concietedly, "Listen, dickface, I can get the manager in here in a second, and she'll kick your sorry ass out of here, no questions asked." She was about to go on, but at that moment the door pushed open and a familiar redhead stepped through, frowning about something that was going on inside her head. She blinked and let the door close behind her, setting her purse down on a seperate counter beside her. Her mind seemed to clear a little and she looked at us, taking in Laticia's threatening posture and me innocent one as I looked up at her amusedly.

"Uh, would that be the manager?" She whipped around and spotted Gemma, her shoulders drooping a little.

"Um, no, that's my-"

"Replacement," I finished triumphantly. "Guess I'm in luck." She dropped her arm and tried not to look flustered as she hurried out, grabbing her own purse and shoving past Gemma in a huff. As the door opened to let her through I called out, "See you tomorrow!"

She plowed on, ignoring me as Gemma slowly approached the counter. "Hey," she said cautiously, obviously wondering what I'd done to her coworker.

"Don't worry, I'm not a creep. Your friend their is just a little bit snappy today."

"Ahh." The redhead sounded unsure, and I didn't blame her. "So, what brings you back here?"

"I'm still job-hunting."

She frowned, looking at me like she wasn't sure whether she was missing something. "So get a job interview."

I shook my head. "But I still don't know if I want to work here. I have to scout it out." The truth was I'd pretty much already decided against applying for the job, since strip clubs had never drawn my interest. But then again, that was a good thing; at least I wouldn't be distracted on the job. The salary had to be good, and _Red _was the most popular place in town. But there had to be better work out there somewhere.

This was the argument that had been rolling around in my head for the past day or so, and it was really starting to piss me off, so I forced myself not to think about it and asked Gemma for a drink.

"Which?" Her tone was light, and I realized that this was the time she enjoyed most, the calm before the nightly rush, when she wasn't dead on her feet. "Whichever you want. Have a specialty?"

She shrugged and a faint smile graced her full lips, which were a pretty rosepetal pink. Immediately they began to form words. "A few."

She set to work making my mystery drink, first kicking off her shoes and pushing them under the counter before shooting off into a series of smooth movements, blending liquids like it was an art form. I watched absently, wondering what had made me come back again tonight. Obviously it was her, but I couldn't figure out what it was that had drawn me to the seemingly simple bartender. Just by looking at the bags under her eyes though, I banished the word simple from my list of vocabulary that could ever describe Gemma. It could have been her looks, but I'd never thought of myself as shallow, and I wasn't about to start.

It was strange, the feeling that seeing her again would change things. The inexpliccable pull that had made me head down to the club instead of staying home and watching Comedy Central or going out with friends. I could have brought someone here, but already I had sensed that this was my own, this booming club with it's passionate, interesting employees.

Not that I'd categorize Alicia anywhere close to Gemma, but this place seemed to possess an infectious personality, and I loved it. Just the thought that I had this whole little world to myself brought a smile to my face, and Gemma herself caught me grinning at nothing, probably looking totally insane. She set my drink down in front of me with a quizzical expression.

"What's that about?" I shrugged, knowing that she wouldn't get it if I told her.

"Stuff," I replied immaturely and she sighed.

"Alright, don't tell me. But I'd stop it if I were you." She leaned closer to me. "You're scaring away the customers."

I scoffed at her and cleverly hid the grin that was rising quickly out of my stomach. She turned away with a smile and greeted an approaching drinker, who immediately ordered something dangerously potent with an embarrassing name. He paid Gemma extra for it and left her to pocket the excess change, which she did with a guilty look on her face. "What a horrible poker face," I said just loud enough for her to hear, and she blushed noticeably in the low lighting.

"What?"

"Are you _supposed _to be doing that?"

"Not quite, but it can't hurt," she answered, loosening up quickly. "After all, it's his fault for giving me too much cash."

"Of course."

* * *

I stumbled in the door of my apartment around four-o'-clock, my head light with the music that was bouncing around inside it, and also fuzzed up from the drinks I'd had with Kartik before leaving the club. I could barely keep my eyes open and the warm air that suddenly surrounded me as I closed the door behind me didn't help much.

There was a lingering happiness in my face that refused to go away, reminding me of the night every time it brought a ridiculous smile to my face. I couldn't really remember the last time I'd had that much fun at work. Of course, I knew inside that it wasn't where I was that had mattered, it was who I was _with. _Kartik's easy smile had somehow allowed me to laugh the night away at the bar, forgetting about what was waiting for me when I returned home. Now that I was here, the thought weighed me down considerably and my shoulders slumped with the invisible weight.

The apartment was silent except for the noise I made hanging my coat by the door and thumping my purse down on the floor next to the closet. A streak of hope passed through me as I listened, hearing no signs that Simon was still awake. He must have given up on me and gone to bed; his wrath could wait till morning, if there was any left in him. Which there would be.

I crept further inside slowly, hardly believing my luck. The kitchen was abandoned, the living room dead, and from the hallway I could see that the bathroom light was off, as well as the bedroom light. The fridge hummed reassuringly, constantly filling the air with it's noise.

I reluctantly turned from the main area of the apartment and faced the hallway, almost unable to venture any closer to the bed where he was definitely sleeping. Just because the jerk was unconscious didn't mean that I wanted to be anywhere near him, and I was desperate to go to sleep happy, not have the warm thoughts of Kartik wiped away by Simon's imposing presence.

Feeling like a traitor despite the circumstances, I turned back around and crept through the kitchen, wincing every time a tile creaked under my feet. I crossed over onto the carpet of the living room and squinted in the dark, feeling my way over to the couch. It almost didn't feel real to gently lay myself down on it's worn cushions and arrange the pillows beneath my head until they were comfortable. I laid my head down and let my eyes fall closed with a dreamy smile, drifting immediately into a deep sleep that would carry me safely till morning.

_One Month Later: Kartik's POV_

I groaned as my phone rang obnoxiously from the kitchen, keeping me painfully awake even though I'd been trying to block it out for what seemed like hours now. My pillow had somehow been thrown from the bed and onto my dresser, knocking over a can of deodorant and sending it rolling across the carpet to my bed. I stared at it for a blank second and kicked pathetically to untangle my feet from the warm sheets that had mummified them.

Reluctantly I sat up, closing my eyes against the rush of blood down into my body. The phone called louder.

_Shut the hell up, _I thought angrily, still too groggy to voice my opinions. I stood up carefully, glad that I'd left the thermostat on high last night. It was horribly wasteful, but at least I could walk around a warm house in the mornings.

I dragged my feet across the carpet, moving myself slowly towards the door that separated my room from the living room. I thought about bending to pick up the Axe on the carpet, but it seemed much too troublesome at this time of morning and I lumbered on past, grabbing the doorknob clumsily. I threw the door open and headed out into the living room, trying to figure out if I'd make it to the phone before the answering machine picked up-

"Hey, this is Kartik. Leave a message."

With a sigh I blinked and walked through the living room, temporarily shocked by the mess. There were cans of beer and chip bags strewn everywhere, and I mean absolutely_ everywhere. _Blankets had been carelessly left on the floor and one of the couch cushions was dislodged. The television was still on, showing an accusing blue because someone had switched the satellite off instead of the actual appliance. The whole area smelled of shaving cream for some reason, a DVD was broken with its' two pieces laying on top of the television, and someone had scawled their signature onto the coffee table with a permanent marker.

I tried to remember who had all been here last night, but with a splitting headache it was just about impossible. They themselves were probably still passed out somewhere without the burden of actually being awake to experience their hangovers.

If I thought back hard enough I could see Cameron laying on my couch, his long legs hanging over the edge awkwardly. My closest friend had been wasted out of his mind last night, I just knew it, which meant that it definitely wasn't his call that I'd just missed.

I didn't bother to check the machine as I travelled into the kitchen and threw myself down on a wooden chair, barely acknowledging the army of beer bottles piled on the counters. I managed to find a bowl in among the mess and grabbed a box of cereal from the table, pouring it into my bowl until it overflowed.

I sat lazily in the kitchen for ten minutes, munching away at my dry cereal as I wondered if I had any plans today. My part time job at the little bar across town didn't include weekends, so I was good for that, and everyone I knew had been totally hammered last night, meaning that today was a catch-up. I hadn't drank that much, though, and already I felt too awake to slump back to bed for the rest of the day.

I took another minute to finish my breakfast and went to get dressed, pulling off my ratty shirt as I headed down the hallway. Luckily no one had gotten into my room last night and it was fairly easy to find some clean clothes. I slowly dragged a long-sleeved t-shirt over my head and put on some blue jeans, knowing that soon I'd need some new clothes and also knowing that I'd put it off for a good while longer.

* * *

Twenty minutes later I was wishing that I'd crawled back into bed and had a long, long, nap. My eyelids sagged as I sat in my car, waiting for traffic to let up slightly so that I could inch forwards another foot or so. The Mustang's radio was cranked up as high as possible to keep me awake, but it wasn't quite working and I could hear car horns and faint shouts outside that told me the music was pissing some people off.

I made an effort of reaching over and turning the volume dial until Rise Against was just a quiet mumbling, then sat back once more and sighed, looking out the window at the sea of cars that surrounded me.

I usually prided myself on driving the nicest car on the road, but there was one of those new Camaros a few lanes over that was annoyingly well-kept. Even worse, there was a chick inside, wearing huge tinted sunglasses and tapping on her GPS. I rolled my eyes and looked away, trying to remember why I'd wanted to head to the movies anyway. I should have just ordered something on Pay-per-View and watched in my trashed living room.

I eased up on the brake pedal and let the car slide forwards, coming dangerously close to the rear end of the SUV in front of me. I made a little face as I hurriedly stopped the car and sat back again, hoping that if I had bumped the vehicle no one would notice.

So far my day was terribly boring, and it was barely one. The only guarenteed fun activity that would be happening today was my nightly visit to _Red. _I went every day of the week but Sunday, when they were closed, and every night Gemma was there. I usually didn't talk for long, but sometimes got caught up and ended sitting on the wrong side of the bar with her until the club shut down.

Last night had been the first time I hadn't gone for a long time, and I almost felt guilty for abandoning her there. Alcohol had managed to wipe that away after a certain amount of time, but now I was feeling anxious that she might be mad at me. I told myself that it would be ridiculous if she even cared, but I still felt like an enormous jerk.

I'd been close to uncovering some new information about her boyfriend Simon, who interested me greatly. Gemma spoke of him with more bitterness and hate than love and compassion, but I hadn't worked up the nerve yet to ask her why the hell she was still with him. Occassionally I sensed something frightened and hurt under her warm exterior, and something told me that it was Simon. That was one thing that pissed me off, was when she seemed all broken up inside and she wouldn't tell me what was wrong no matter how many times I asked. I didn't push her on it anymore.

Once she had let something slip, but it had been so uncommon that I almost thought I'd dreamed it up. I walked up to the bar to a much shakier Gemma than usual. She was wringing her hands and clenching her teeth like a madwoman.

"What's the matter?" I'd asked her cautiously.

"Simon," she'd said angrily, with a waver to her voice. "Filthy son-of-a-bitch."

I'd almost reeled at the sudden uprising of temper, but she'd continued on, mumbling low enough that I could barely hear. "Arrogant, controlling bastard. Doesn't deserve to live, dumbass pig...."

I had stared at her in shock until she snapped out of it and took on a regretful and scared expression, trying to cover up her outburst. All that evening I'd refrained from bugging her and tried not to be as immature as usual. Predictably, she had been totally normal the next night.

Now I was worried that she could have had a total breakdown last night and I hadn't been there to do something about it, even though it was pathetically protective and stupid. I wished that the club would be open at this time, but I couldn't go until eight, when the sun normally went down. A movie would be a good idea to pass the time, but I honestly didn't feel like watching one at all, and the clothes shopping I'd been planning wasn't happening either.

I passed a _Subway_ and looked down the road, trying to find something that was worth my worthless time. The only thing I could really see was a huge Travelodge with a sign over top of it that announced that length of their newest waterslides. There was a strip of small business that came up before the hotel, but I couldn't read their signs until I was much closer. One of them was a boring specialty shop, but the other boasted four enormous letters that made my heart soar: _TCBY_.

I grinned like a child and pulled my car our of traffic, taking the exit up into the small parking lot. There were plenty of empty spaces and I screeched into the first one I saw, forgetting to drive carefully as I shifted the Mustang into park and grabbed the keys. I flung the driver's side door open and hopped out, reluctant to leave the refreshing air-conditioned safety of my car.

I shut the door and went up onto the sidewalk, moving along it until I was under the TCBY sign. I pushed through the door and straight into an even colder place, one that smelled of refrigerator steam and fruit. Atificial lights glared, illuminating every corner of the small store. The brightest was a huge menu, shouting out varied flavours of frozen yogurt. Above it was a pink neon sign: _The Country's Best Yogurt. _I fought back a childish smile as I approached the counter, trying to select something out of the hundreds of options. Finally I asked the sour-faced employee for a vanilla-chocolate and watched as she nodded and went to make it. Her movements were irritatingly slow but I didn't say anything; I didn't need any more people to think I was a jerk.

I fished in my pocket for change and dropped a few coins on the counter, making sure that I had enough money before starting to move them around like game pieces. I remembered my father teaching me how to play chess when I was eight, tolerating the fururistic sound effects I made every time I shifted one of the serene characters. He'd just smiled as I moved my knight across the whole board to focefully knock his queen off of the edge, or moved my bishop one square directly forward so that I could threaten his king.

My mother had sat and watched for a while as I totally butchered the game, then went off to stop my baby sister's crying. Dad had told her that he'd get it next time, and her sarcastic reply was still fresh in my mind. I cringed inwardly against the sharp bitterness that automatically arose in my chest along with the memory, wishing that the pain could have faded like it did for my brother and sister.

Luna and Raz weren't old enough to remember what it felt like to wake up one morning and find that Dad wasn't there anymore. What it felt like to find his drawers lying empty on the floor, crying out for forgiveness. To watch as their mother practically fell apart in front of their eyes. She'd searched and searched for some sort of reason and tried to remember him telling her good-bye, but there was nothing. He hadn't even left a note.

"Sir?"

I jolted out of my trance and looked up from the counter, blinking twice as I looked at the girl in front of me wearing a TCBY nametag. She looked like she was about to call in therapist or something so I forced myself to smile and take the yogurt from her hand. The girl's eyes lingered on me as she swiped my money off of he counter and put it in the till.

I declined a reciept and another order and sat on the swivelling stool by myself, on the brink of drifting off again. I shook my head like there was a fly buzzing around inside it and carved a bite of yogurt out with my spoon, eating it slowly. By the time I'd gotten halfway through my treat I was fully awake, and kicking myself for going back to it once again. _You're a grown man, Kartik; why can't you just forget about it and move on? _Because I just couldn't, was why.

I envied Luna, the youngest of us all. She hadn't the faintest memory of his face, and had found it the easiest to accept that she didn't have a father. For her, he hadn't left. He'd just never been there.

Raz was doing just as well, even though I knew that he felt it sometimes. He lived with his steady girlfriend somewhere out east, and had a good paying job as a contractor. For the umpteenth time I was embarrassed to be a DJ, especially in a cheap bar that meant nothing in the world. _Red _was going to be my upgrade, but it honestly wouldn't make my siblings think any different of me if I worked in a strip club instead of a normal bar (no matter how prestigious that club was).

I hadn't visited any of my relatives for years, and didn't plan on it any time soon. I was fine spending all my money on frozen yogurt, stupid movies and drinks that I only ordered so that I could hang around the bartender. One day I would look back and hate myself for those spontaneous moments, but I couldn't being myself to give up my careless streak, no matter how much trouble it had or _would _cause me.

Seven-and-a-half hours later I sat on my personal barstool, watching Gemma closely. She looked like she wanted to ask me something, but she held it back as if she thought it wouldn't be a good idea. I guessed that it concerned my whereabouts last night, but I wasn't sure so I kept the answer to myself. We chatted lightly as usual, and soon I was buzzing with her presence as much as I was with alcohol. Tonight she had a replacement coming in, so at twelve she came out from behind the bar and sat beside me with her own drink.

"So," she said loudly, trying to reach me over the music, "where do you go when you're not sitting at a strip club waiting for one of the employees to come to work?" Her lips were twisted into a smirk and and couldn't help but smile a little at her jest.

"I take pictures of young children on playgrounds and torture small animals in my mother's basement, " I told her especially loud, drawing Alicia's attention as she waited for customers. She looked pissed and I avoided her eyes, looking straight at Gemma as she laughed and nodded.

"We must have similar interests, then."

"Absolutely," I said, pronouncing each syllable clearly through the haze of my mind. Alecia was full-out glaring at me now, her raccon-ish makeup drawing in until I could barely see the whites of her eyes. She moved along the bar until she was right in front of us, making me conscious of the small distance between our bodies.

"Okay, why do you come here every night, anyway?" She couldn't have sounded any bitchier, but I wanted to laugh at her position with her hand on her hip and her body bent at the waist so that her emnarrassing cleavage was clearly visible to the both of us. "Seriously, it's really creepy."

I gave a little shrug and used the stupidest line that popped into my head: "It's a free country."

"Whatever. You know, it's not cool when you use comebacks that a seven-year-old could think of."

I raised my eyebrow, starting to realize just how dumb she was. "Uh-huh," I said, and gave her a once over as she pursed her lips and frowned at me. "Well, I think I might just have to remind you that I can actually do whatever I want, and you can't stop me. Do I really have to be the one to tell your boss that you've been harrassing customers?" Gemma was looking at me with mild shock, but it was mostly amusement. I was glad that she didn't mind me being like this sometimes.

Alecia glared harder and mumbled something under her breath that sounded like "Whatever," but she backed off and went to tend to the waiting customers. I turned back to Gemma with a flashy smile, which she returned readily.

"Well, that was quite a show," she said happily. "And just when things were getting boring around here." She sipped the last droplets of her drink and I mirrored her, trying to grasp the idea that had just appeared on the edge of my consciousness. I was silent, looking at her closely as I realized that something was wrong with her face. Gemma's emerald eyes were sad, and twin teardrops had left trails on her cheeks, just visible as the light deflected off of them.

"Gemma?"

She suddenly looked at me as if surprised that I was there. Her mouth opened but nothing came out, and I filled the silence with the most unexpected sentence that had ever come out of my mouth.

"Want to go see a movie?"


	3. Fuel

_**Two Months Later**...Gemma's POV_

I picked up the phone reluctantly, unsure of whether Simon could hear me from the living room. The TV was on pretty loud, but I was still cautious as I carefully dialed the first three numbers.

I hadn't called Ann in a long time, mostly because of my boyfriend. He didn't like it when I talked on the phone with anyone for any length of time. Two more quiet beeps as I continued pressing buttons, praying that she would pick up. If she didn't I might not be able to try again for a good while longer, which would only give Simon time to grow even more protective. I finished and held the receiver up to my ear, fingers crossed as the phone began to ring. A lapse in Simon's program filled me with dread as the apartment became quiet, making the rings in my ear seem ten times as loud.

I held my breath until the noise started up again and almost jumped when Ann's voice came through the phone. "Hello?"

I swallowed and quickly reached over to the bathroom door and made sure that it was totally shut. The fan was on high as well to mask the sound of my voice.

"Hi, Ann. It's Gemma." She paused for a second and I was almost afraid that she had hung up on me.

"Gemma?! Where've _you _been for the last five months?"

I shrugged before I remembered that she couldn't see me. "Around, I guess. How've you been?"

"Okay. That online dating site you signed me up for hasn't worked it's magic yet, though." I almost sighed as I felt the conversation drifting towards everything that went wrong in her life, but I held it in and said, "Don't worry, it just takes some time. You'll find someone."

"Yeah, sure I will." She sounded bitter. "Hey, how's Simon been for you?"

I cringed. "Not so great, lately."

"What do you mean?"

"Uh, nothing. Just some minor difficulties."

"Like.....?" She sounded genuinely curious and I was tempted to tell her what a monster he was. I wanted out for than ever, but that terrible fear held me back. What if I told her and she didn't do anything? I'd just seem like an ungrateful idiot if she didn't believe me, and if Simon found out it'd be hell.

"He's just been really stressed lately. We both are."

"Ahh. Well, maybe it's time for someone new, Gemma. To be honest, Simon's always creeped me out a little anyway." As soon as she said "someone new", a certain handsome face popped into my head and I worked furiously to dispell it. Kartik couldn't be an option. Simon was who I was with, whether I liked it or not, and I knew that I wasn't getting out of that anytime soon. Ann couldn't know that, and besides, she'd always been better at loading her troubles onto people that bearing _their _problems. I didn't say anything about Kartik for the rest of the half hour that we talked. I started to get paranoid about Simon hearing us from outside as the conversation waned.

"Ann, I have to go. I'll talk to you again soon, though. I promise."

"You'd better," she threatened. "It's been kind of lonely without you, you know. I haven't hurt myself since we last saw each other, though," she reassured me. "I'm almost off of the anti-depressants."

"That's good. Listen, I've really got to go now. I'll talk to you-"

I was interrupted by a thunderous banging that made me shoot up off of the closed toilet lid and flatten myself against the wall. The bathroom door shook frighteningly as it was attacked from the outside. My fingers quivered with the adrenaline ignited in my veins and my breath was suddenly ragged.

"_Gemma!" _Simon's yell was so loud that I wanted to put my hands over my ears. He was furious. "What the _hell _are you doing in there?"

I pushed the "end" button on the cordless phone and stumbled for an answer as my tongue suddenly felt heavy as lead. "I-I was just doing my make-up," I lied pathetically.

"Why? You're not going anywhere tonight." His voice was still a shout, accented by the extra kicks at the door that made it creak in it's hinges.

"Simon, I have work-"

"Did you _hear _me? I said you're not going anywhere, you idiot. Are you deaf or something?!" The doorknob turned around and around as he tried to open it and discovered that I'd locked it from the inside. "Gemma, _why is this door locked?!_"

I winced. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lock it."

"Come out here and talk to me face to face! And you're _not _going anywhere tonight, you hear me?" Tears gathered in my eyes at his words, and I was unable to stop them from spilling over. My voice broke painfully as I replied. "I'm coming out."

I tucked the phone into my waistband and made sure that my baggy sweater covered the lump before rushing over to the door and unlocking it. Tears streamed down my cheeks like fire and I didn't bother to wipe them away as I pulled the door open.

Simon stood in front of me, his ice blue eyes hating and cold. His face was nothing but anger, and his stance leaned forwards as if prepared to attack. He grabbed my arm forcefully and pulled me out of the doorway, holding me close to his face. His long fingers clinched around my elbow much too hard, making me cry out as he dug his nails into my flesh through the fabric of my sweatshirt. His thin lips were twisted into a scowl as he spoke loudly, spitting at my face.

"What's wrong with you, Gemma? I don't even know why I tolerate all of this _stupidity." _He jerked me forwards and whispered in my ear, "You're staying home tonight, Gemma." The threat in his voice was obvious and I found myself wishing that I was dead. He had all night to do what he wanted with me. He shoved me down, making my back hit the ground painfully as I was caught off guard. "Do you have anything to say about that?"

Fearful anger rose up in me and I recklessly spoke my mind, unaware of what I was really saying. "Simon, you have to let me go to work. You can't just keep me here."

He went from furious to absolutely flaming in a split second, and before I knew it his foot had sunk into my stomach, making me curl up on the carpet as I was winded. I cried out like a wounded animal as he kicked my shins repeatedly, forcing me against the wall until I couldn't defend myself. The pain was splintering as he moved on to my head, viciously kicking away at my skull. I held my arms protectively up to my face but he managed to get at my face once or twice, magnifying the pain as the ball of his foot tore apart my skin.

"You dumb," he started, delivering a blow to my back. "disgusting, _whore." _I cried shamelessly as he destroyed me, spreading the pain all over my body for what seemed like hours. Finally he clamped a hand onto my collarbone and dragged me up, bringing me up to his face. I tried to keep my eyes open as I knew that he wanted eye contact, but both of them were nearly swelled shut. "Simon," I creaked tearfully, "please..."

He ignored my begging and drew back a fist, driving it up into my stomach with unworldly strength. I couldn't make a sound as the air was purged from my body, but more tears found their way down my face, which was soaked already. He let go of me and I fell to the floor, moving into fetal position as I sobbed, ready for the next assault. I was surprised to hear his voice, sounding calm and firm. "Stay here. You know what'll happen if you do."

I squeezed my eyes shut. _Die. Die. Die. _

_"_Eh?"

He pressed a foot down on my ankle, putting enormous weight on it until I moaned, "Yes."

The pressure lifted and his footsteps travelled towards the bedroom, which was on the very end of the hallway. The door opened and closed, leaving me alone outside of the bathroom. Normally I would have been paralyzed with fear, but fear was what drove me to rise up onto hands and knees and slowly begin to crawl towards the kitchen. Every part of my body was burning unbearably, and my bones ached like they were going to snap every time I moved.

I knew what Simon was doing in the bedroom. He kept our biggest knives locked up under the bed, and I wasn't about to wait around until he came back with them and cut me up. My palms moved onto linoleum as I entered the kitchen, knowing exactly what I wanted. I wanted to get out, but first Simon was going to get hurt. I hated that I couldn't just do the sensible thing and run, but there was no way that was happening now.

I stood up slowly and silently, padding over to the island. I opened the top drawer slowly, looking over the dull butterknives that were kept in there. They would be no help, that I knew. I tried to be quiet in removing the drawer but it was useless; I noisily tore it out of the island and let it fall onto the floor with a deafening crash as all of the utensils fell like rain. I moved like lightning, shoving my arm into the empty space and ripping an object off of the top. Recklessly I pulled it out and removed the stray pieces of tape, feeling like I was in a dream as I switched the taser gun on and set it to the highest voltage. Thinking quick, I reached over to the wall and flicked the light switch, plunging myself into darkness. Simon's footsteps came from the hallway as he responded to the noise.

"Gemma! What the fuck are you thinking, you dumb bitch? Turn on the lights _now, _or when I find you I'll-"

He broke off as he reached the kitchen doorway. I could see his outline faintly in the dark as he surveyed the damage. "_Gemma..."_

I realized that he would spot me soon and ran forwards, brandishing the stun gun out in front of me. He barely had time to flinch before I pressed it against his neck, reeling back as it sparked, sending fifty-thousand volts of electricity through his body. Simon fell immediately, dropping like a sack in the doorway. His form twitched disturbingly in the darkness as I stood over him, afraid to turn on the lights and face his eyes. It was sweet joy to see him writhing helpless beneath me, and I carefully bent down and picked a fork up off of the floor.

Something wild controlled me as I stabbed it into his leg, barely able to register the sick feeling of it punching through his flesh. My ears were deaf to his cries as I shocked him again, keeping his long body totally immobilized. I wasn't Gemma. Gemma didn't like putting people through pain. But Simon wasn't a person.

I refrained from torturing Simon any longer and stepped over him, ignoring the fork the stuck out of his thigh. No regret could touch me now, not yet.

I went to the bedroom and got dressed in whatever I was going to wear to work today as if everything were normal. In truth, my whole being was consumed with pain and I knew that I may have just committed murder. I pulled on my red converse heels, tied them up messily, and left the bedroom, stepping over Simon's head as I walked to the door. He was trying to say something.

_Run. _

I ignored his garbled words as I made for the door, barely able to believe that this was happening.

_Run, run, run. _

The mantra continued in my head as I opened the door and stood silently, jumbled up inside until I couldn't think of anything but one word.

_Run, run, run, run, run, run, run. _

I ran.

_

* * *

_

_Kartik's POV_

Gemma was late. Really, really late.

There was only about ten minutes left of her shift, and Alicia was still stuck on the job. My friend's annoying coworker insisted on frequently leaning over to retrieve glasses from under the bar and staying in that same position for much too long. Presently she was reaching her arms out and pushing her breasts upwards at me with them as she hopelessly tried to seduce me.

Once she'd figured out that I wasn't going to stop coming to _Red, _Alicia had given in and started acting like this. All the time. I knew that Gemma had noticed it and we'd discussed it jokingly a few times, but it sort of embarrassed her and I didn't bring it up other than to shoot Alicia down the odd time.

She stood up and I let myself look everywhere but straight at her as she checked to see if I'd noticed this time. Instead of acknowledging her scowl I took another swig of my half-full Budweiser and rattled my fingers on the countertop impatiently. Alicia sashayed over with a little viciousness in her stance. "Gemma's not coming in tonight, you know."

I looked at her coldly, the way I do when I want people to feel insignificant and stupid, and tossed back another mouthful of beer. "I think I had that figured out on my own, thanks."

She pretended not to feel like a scolded child and rolled her eyes (her trademark) and headed off to serve more drinks, apparently having reminded herself of the time as she kept glancing at the little clock installed in the bar that you could only see if you were right up close to it. Now it was reading _3:52, _and I was just about ready to leave. I might as well, if I was going to beat the rush. But I didn't move.

My beer drained away and I ordered another one, this time opting for a Guinness. I'd been cataloguing drinks lately, more specifically beers, and I still had a lot to go through. It had been pretty difficult to convince my friends that I wasn't an alcoholic.

At 3:56 I was tipping the last of the drink down my throat, feeling a little light-headed. That meant I'd had enough for the night. I usually had more when Gemma was around, since I kind of forget what was going on with my body when I got caught up with the night. But now that I had nothing to distract me I realized that I still had to drive home. _Drive home, Kartik. Just drive home._

Once again I ignored my conscious and kept my ass on that stool. Gemma wasn't coming. I knew that. But I still couldn't make myself stand up and leave, however hard I tried. _3:57. _The lights were shutting down all over the club, and people were trickling towards the exits, suddenly eager to leave before they were caught up in the wave of clubbers that was sure to come afterwards.

And then... _bam. _The employee's door slowly opened, hesitantly and shakily, to reveal the girl that I'd been waiting for all night. Relief surged through me like a drug at the sight of her, but as soon as the joyous rush came it was slapped away by a heavy realization that something was horribly wrong.

As Gemma stepped into the dying light of the club I reeled back in shock. Her face was a sickening mixture of dark colours and swollen flesh, scraped open across one cheek, and what other flesh I could see was nearly as bad. A strobe light flashed and glistened off of her tear-coated face, making my expression fade from disbelief to concern.

"Gemma.." My whisper couldn't have reached her, and something told me that if she had heard she wouldn't have answered anyway. Gemma started to limp forward painfully, grimacing with every numb movement as she moved around the bar. Alicia took one glance at her and shot through the door, no doubt caring more about the fact that she was free than the horrible state her coworker was in. It wouldn't have mattered anyway since the club was almost empty. I was the only one left to witness whatever had happened.

I was too paralyzed to help Gemma as she slowly managed to hoist herself up onto the stool beside me. Every movement made her wince, which tugged a nerve in me that made _me _want to shut my eyes. I inched my stool over until it was touching hers.

"Gemma, what-"

Gemma launched herself onto me, grabbing onto my body like a vice as she buried her head in my shoulder and wrapped her arms around my torso. Heart-breaking sobs began to rip out of her throat and her delicate body shook with tears that she hiccuped out into my shoulder. Haltingly I wriggled my arm our from between us and put it around her, too shocked to do anything else. A million questions were burning the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them down and tightened my grip around her body until we were caught in a bear hug.

"Shhh..," I didn't know how I'd switched into comfort mode, but somehow it had happened and now I was totally focused on just _making it better, _as much for myself as for her. I made myself forget about the state she was in and the curiousity growing in my chest, followed by anger. Whoever had done this to her was sick and horrible and I was disgusted by the things that I wanted to do to them, but my own thoughts would have to wait.

Slowly Gemma's noises quieted, fading away to short bursts of crying. By the time she was totally silent the club was deserted, lights off everywhere but the bar. I held her to me like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Gemma, what happened?"

She raised her head to look at me, and I wanted to cry when I saw the suicide in her eyes.

"He- he-" She cut herself off with a sharp sob and continued in a tear-coated voice. "Oh, my God, Kartik. Help me." She was pleading now, and I could feel her soul unravelling next to mine. "Just help me, Kartik..."

Her words trailed off into sobs and I tucked her back into my chest, barely noticing that my front was soaking wet. I glanced at that same digital clock. _4:05. _"Gemma, the club is closed," I told her softly.

She looked up at me again, guiltily. "I kn-know, I'm sorry."

"I think it's time to go."

She nodded and reluctantly let go of me so that I could go behind the bar and switch the lights off, leaving us in total darkness. I felt my way back to her and was immediately latched onto. "Kartik, you can't leave me here..."

Sadness welled up in me amoungst all of the confusion and I nodded even though she couldn't have seen me. Slowly, I took her arm and hooked it around my shoulder.

"Come on."


	4. Catch

_Gemma's POV_

Before I knew it, I was awake. The world just came rushing back in a wave of light, sounds, smells and feelings, making me forget what it had felt like in the peaceful blackness that was sleep. First I drifted in and out, desperate to fall back into my mind forever, but after what felt like hours I finally became totally awake and realized that I should probably open my eyes and face whatever I saw.

My eyelids fluttered open just as they'd been aching to do and I was immediately assaulted by a painful ray of light that shone directly at my face. I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut again, then forced them open so that I could adjust to the brightness.

As I squinted I suddenly became aware of my surroundings; I was lying heavily on the soft sheets of a small bed in a small room, which was mostly occupied by an enormous window that made the room seem heavenly with all of the day's light. There were clothes strewn on the floor, but none of them were mine.

I was fully dressed exept for shoes and my body was bent at the waist so that I was almost sitting up, leaning against something warm, firm, and unmoving. Almost fearfully, I lifted my head from it and turned it around until my pillow came into view.

Kartik. His caramel skin was glowing in the sunlight flawlessly, and his eyes were closed so that I could've easily counted the thick eyelashes that brushed upon his cheeks. His dark, feathery hair was messed as usual and his full lips were parted ever-so-slightly as he dreamt. The strong jaw that I knew so well seemed softer and more boy-ish in sleep, relaxed as if Kartik had stopped clenching his teeth for the first time in his life.

The neck of the thin shirt he wore had been pulled down to his chest by my weight and his lower body was covered in the blankets that had twisted themselves around our legs. I wiggled mine experimentally and found that I was tightly caught in them anyway; no point in moving. I stared at Kartik for another minute and realized that I'd never seen him looking so peaceful. Normally I could see a tiny glimmer of sadness in his eyes or a drag to his step, but bathed morning sunlight he was a god, free of burdens and troubles. I could never wake him from that.

I laid my head back against his chest, tucking myself in the warm spot between his head and his collarbone before closing my eyes and listening to his breathing. I pulled my arms from my sides and unthinkingly put them around him, one between the small of his back and a pillow and the other lying on his waist. I inched in closer to his body warmth stirring in my stomach as I lazily shifted a leg so that my foot was touching his.

My brain began to go fuzzy as I slowly faded out again, dipping in and out of consciousness. Kartik moved in his sleep, dropping an arm over me and tilting his head downwards. Momentarily I came alive up and wondered what he'd do if he woke up, but the embarrassing thought slipped away as he became still and I moved easily back into limbo. A sigh worked it's way out of my lungs, carrying with it the last of my thoughts as slumber took me once more.

* * *

_Gemma's POV...still._

Beer bottles clinked painfully loud in my ears, unceasingly obnoxious as I carried armloads of them over to the sink. So far I'd only found two that weren't totally drained, and I was almost done. The kitchen and half of the living room had been cleared of debris, and Kartik's kitchen was overflowing with carefully placed glass bottles that I doubted he would bother to recycle.

I dumped my load next to the others and stood them up, then headed back into the living room to finish excavating the couch. I stepped over an empty bag of chips and grabbed the last bottle from between two of the cushions, then set about picking popcorn kernels up from the carpet and popping them in. Whoever had been here loved their popcorn and absolutely hated cleaning up after themselves, just like everybody else. I needed something to do, though, so I guess they sort of did me a favour.

I finished up ten minutes later and plugged the television back in, half-wondering just how drunk you had to be before you got the idea to unplug it in the first place. Squeezing myself out of the narrow crack between the TV and the wall, I grudgingly walked back into the kitchen to face the mountain of beer bottles. It wasn't too hard to ignore the stench, but it was the mere thought of _that much beer _that boggled my mind.

Thankfully, Kartik chose that moment to walk in from the room we'd slept in (his, I suppose) and throw open the pantry. I tried to avert my eyes from his butt as he stood there in his t-shirt and faded jeans, surveying the cereal and other breakfast products inside for a silent second before doing a quick double-take to look at 'the pile'. A little shriek followed as he looked from it to me, standing beside the table with nothing to do.

"What the hell?" He made a hilarious face and stared at me disbelievingly. "You didn't do that, did you?"

I nodded, suddenly afraid that I'd done something wrong. Kartik wasn't angry at all, but he couldn't seem to wrap his head around what he was looking at. "Oh, Gemma, you didn't have to do that! I'm so sorry, I should've had that done this morning." He looked honestly worried and I realized that he was waiting for me to do something.

"It was the least I could do," I said uncertainly, "I mean- I sort of dumped myself on you."

He just shrugged and laughed a rich, beautiful laugh that sped through me with sweet joy. "Don't even try to paint me as the victim here," he laughed. "And thank you, honestly, since I probably never would have got it done myself."

I smiled back at him and said, "Well, I've exhausted my maid services for the day, anyway."

His loose grin grew even wider and he turned back to the pantry, rolling out a whole army of food products with his foot. He bent down and picked up a cereal box, gesturing to me as he headed over to the sink and opened a cupboard. He grabbed a bowl from inside and set it on the counter. "That's good, I wouldn't be able to handle the guilt of slave labour. Go ahead and get into anything you like; I'm sure you're pretty hungry."

As he said so I finally acknowledged the hunger that was tearing at my stomach and got some food for myself, barely able to wait as I stood near the toaster and tapped my foot absently. When the thing did pop up, I jumped four feet and almost dropped my plate, drawing a dry laugh from Kartik.

We sat at the table together, him slurping _Special K _and me crunching on dry toast.

"Do you know what day it is today?" The question was so casual it caught me off guard, blowing away my expectations for "So... what the fuck happened last night?" I barely had to consider before the answer to his actual question slipped out of my mouth: "Sunday."

He nodded and I smiled as I reminded myself of the fact that I didn't work tonight. Normally I dreaded Sundays and made up excusese to get out of the house whenever I could, but suddenly I saw that Sunday was a good day. If only for one week, Sunday would be a good day.

Kartik stirred his cereal absently and I tried to think of something to say that would steer the conversation as far from last night as possible, all the while munching away at my toast. Thankfully, what Kartik said next was just the thing I needed to hear. "What do you want to do today?"

He took another spoonful of cereal and then got up and carried his bowl to the counter, looking at me expectantly as I finished off my piece of toast, crust and all. It caught me off guard, that he was asking me since I was the unexpected house guest here. I sort of shrugged and said, "Isn't that up to you?"

"Not really." He didn't seem to care at all about what we did and dumped his bowl in the sink a bit carelessly. "Though, I do have some clothes shopping to do."

At that I smiled and got up, pushing my chair back in as I left the table. "Oh, really?"

He nodded at me and grimaced. "Unless you can think of something better, my clothes are falling apart at the seams and I've been putting off getting new ones for quite a while." I could tell that he hated shopping altogether, and I wasn't a fan myself, but the thought of going to the mall with him was wholly intriguing and I knew we wouldn't think of anything better.

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

**It's kind of short but at least it's something! The next chapter will be longer, I promise.**


	5. Breath

Kartik was doing a horrible job of hiding the grimace on his face as he stared in the direction that my finger was pointing. He glanced back to me and raised his eyebrow, obviously wishing that he could pretend I was turned in another direction.

"What?" I asked. "There's nothing wrong with that one."

He twisted his face into a whole different expression of disgust as he cast another frightened glance at the _slightly_ purple t-shirt I was pointing at.

"Do I have to remind you that I'm not a homosexual?"

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't stop the bright grin from spreading across my face. "Fine," I sighed theatrically. "I'll steer away from pastels and V-necks."

"Oh, thank God," he announced, and I made a face at his teasing, walking away from that particular rack of clothes with him trailing just a step behind me. I stopped again in front of a whole different collection of shirts and began flipping through them as he shoved his hands into his jeans' pockets and leaned against the wall of the store, customary smirk playing out mischieviously on his face.

"I'd have to pass on that one," he laughed as I jokingly held up a daring hot pink number. "Just until I come out of the closet, though."

I smiled and put it back in it's place as he lifted off of the wall and came to stand on the opposite side of the circular rack. "It's a maybe, then."

"Maybe," he said slowly, switching his hands to his back pocket, "you "pass" on work tonight, and we rent that chick flick I've just been _dying _to see. I haven't had some Orville Redenbacher's in months." I took my eyes from the rows of fabric in front of me, raising them to meet his with my heart fluttering weakly. His eyebrows were raised with the suggestion and a smile played on his full lips as he waited for my response. I almost couldn't answer, but then the words came as easily as flowing water and I mirrored his grin.

"Obviously you haven't had something else in months, or you wouldn't even be trying." My voice was playful as I said something I never thought would leave my lips, and his eyebrows jumped up as he guffawed at me in shocked amusement.

He made a that catty noise that made me feel like a bitch and laughed.

"Oooh, that was low," he chuckled, "though I couldn't tell who you were insulting there." He put a hand on his stomach and placed the other one on the metal bar of the rack. "Gemma, you're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

I smiled at him shyly and shrugged, my gaze flitting down to the clothes before it was drawn back up to him. My timidity flowed away quicker than usual as I saw the happy warmth in his eyes. "You know, I think I'll take you up on that offer. Just to test out your sexuality."

His grin swelled and he spun away, stopping at the next rack over and starting to rifle through it's contents carelessly. My heart rate thumped wildly from just the short exchange as I looked at his lean, muscled back under the thin material of his shirt. His shoulders shook a few times in silent laughter and I giggled to myself and returned to browsing, setting aside a few things that I liked as he knocked others off of their hangers and onto the floor recklessly.

We were silent for several minutes while I worked my way around, collecting a hefty pile of options to sling over my arm. By the time I'd picked through everything, he had basically destroyed the other rack. I made a comment on his messiness and he just shrugged and took the mound of clothes off of my arm, looking through them slowly as I watched. He withheld any caustic comments that may have come to mind and agreed to buy a light grey henley and a navy long-sleeved shirt with painted writing down the arms.

I didn't dare suggest that he actually try them on while we headed for the counter since I was sure I would be met with a barrage of laughter in response. Anyway, I was happy enough that he was in a good mood.

We left the store with him carrying the bag slung over his shoulder. I discreetly observed the way his muscled arm bent back the hold it and then snapped my attention back to the present task. We started to walk through the gargantuan mall and I looked for stores where I could find him a pair of jeans, ones that weren't ripped so badly I could see slivers of his tanned knees, like the ones he was currently wearing.

There was a bounce to my step as he struggled to keep up, a joyousness that I hadn't felt for far too long. I glanced back to make sure that he wasn't lagging and he offered me a flash of his trademark grin and began drifting towards _San Fransisco. _I opened my mouth slightly and furrowed my eyebrows as the corners of my mouth lifted up, surprised only a little by his jest. He corrected his course and we continued on, me dropping back to walk beside him after a while.

I grabbed his arm as a familiar sign caught my eye, jerking him off to the side and towards the entrance. He let himself be dragged inside, obviously unsure of whether he'd regret cooperating later. We were met by a surge of urban music that couldn't be heard from outside and the lighting darkened just slightly. A sales clerk zipped up before we'd made it two steps inside, her short hair fried by too many dye-jobs and barely combed out.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" She coated a perky mask onto her voice even though it was obvious she hated interacting with people, and the look in her eyes just screamed _say no say no say no. _

I shook my head and smiled at her even though her own expression was stony. "We're fine, thanks."

Her shoulders sagged back into the typical teenage-slouch and she darted away, back to folding tank tops that had been thrown lazily around by customers. Kartik muttered something under his breath that I didn't hear.

"_I know _that you're jealous of her optimism, Kartik, but- _ooooh!" _I broke off at the sight of an enormous wall of jeans, looming towards us from the back of the store. They were stacked halfway to the ceiling, thickly packed into cubicles labelled with various sizes. "Jeans!"

Kartik sighed.

* * *

We drifted slowly through _Blockbusters, _combing through the walls and walls of movies systematically. Kartik searched out his favourite kinds of movies and I searched out mine, though we moved along together with only a sliver of air between us. We'd only made it through one stretching wall of shiny cases so far, but already we each had a haul of at least three movies in our hands, which we'd pick through later. I took long, slow steps so that I could observe every title, stopping when I saw something that looked interesting.

I bent slightly to scrutinize the cover of _Fanboys, _then reached out and picked it up, flipping the empty case over in my heands to read the back. I scanned through the summary and smacked it onto the top of my stack, earning a dubious look from Kartik.

"_Fanboys_?" His tone suggested that he thought this had to be a joke.

"Yep."

"Really? You _want _to watch _Fanboys_?"

"You never even read the back. I did." I set my face into a stubborn expression and we resumed our walk alongside the wall.

"Are you sure you're not illiterate? 'Cause that looks like one hell of a stupid movie."

I grinned at him and secured the movie in my arms. "I guess we'll have to see about that."

He returned the smile but shook his head. "Not if I can help it."

We returned to our browsing and he continued ignoring the senseless comedies that I was drawn towards, instead picking out the heavy action films that held less dialogue and more gore, sex and animalistic shouting.

I fought back my own doubts as he selected _300 _and added it to his pile without even checking the back like I did every time. My jumble of light-hearted comedies and romances were beginning to outway his own collection, so he grabbed a few more thrillers and we moved from the walls of newer movies lining the store to the isles that held older, half-forgotten movies. It only took a few minutes to get through those, and then we were sitting on the carpet between the children's and manga sections, spreading our selections out over the floor.

I began splitting mine up while he watched, almost seeming fearful at my choices. I smiled to myself as I placed _Fanboys _in the 'keep' pile, and Kartik groaned loudly and leaned forwards to see what else I was planning to inflict on him. The only older one I'd picked, _Eurotrip, _ended up as a keeper as well, along with _The Hangover _and _Role Models. _I wanted to keep most of the other ones, but instead pushed them off to the side and looked at Kartik expectantly, my smirk still in place. He looked down at his own movies and grinned evilly, immediately setting _300 _apart from the rest.

"Ha-ha," I monotoned as he shrugged and quickly plucked out _Taken _and _The Messengers. _I visibly cringed as he slapped the horror movie down, but his smile just grew and I knew that it would count as payback for my own decisions.

I reached out with both arms and gathered the shows I'd rejected, pulling them into a messy stack. Kartik followed suit and we returned them to their places before heading back and picking up the rest. As we walked towards the counter I shot a glance up at him and something clicked as our eyes met. His wide, crystal irises sparkled with life and I couldn't help but stare for a second as I realized what it was like to look him and not see that cold glint that made my blood run cold, the icy streak that was constantly present in Simon's eyes. It made the back of my throat ache to think of Simon, but I blinked away the mustering tears and focused on the warm, slightly confused smile that Kartik was giving me as I stared. The grimness flickered off of my face and was replaced by a smile as I turned away from him and dodged a cardboard standup.

We weaved our way through racks of candy and two dollar movie bins until we stood together in front of the lanky worker that just barely raised an eyebrow at the huge number of plastic cases that we held. I plunked mine down on the counter and he began to punch numbers into the cash register, calculating how much this would cost. Kartik didn't look worried about the growing sum on the little screen; he just added his to the pile and fished in his pockets for a credit card while the rentals were tallied up. He pulled it out of his pocket and flipped the thin slice of plastic around in his hands. I glanced apologetically from the counter to him, but he shook his head as if to say: _Don't worry about it. _When the clerk stated the price he wordlessly paid for everything and let me shoulder the heavy bag.

We walked out of the store into the late afternoon, attacked by the muggy, hot air that suddenly pressed in on all sides. I hopped down from the sidewalk and we climbed into his car, which personally I loved. True, it was so sleek and streamlined that our shopping bags could barely be squeezed into the backseat, but the roar of the engine and the subwoofers that lined the vehicle more than made up for that.

As I slammed my door shut Kartik plugged his iPod in to the audio in socket and began flipping through his playlists. I gingerly reached over and took the nano from him, holding it up as I scrolled along. He put his hand into his pants pocket and pulled out his keys, shoving one into the ignition and turning it around. The car revved powerully, sending echoes of movement up into my chest. Kartik placed his hand on the stick and shifted us into reverse, pressing the gas pedal down with vigour and pulling us dangerously fast out of the line of cars.

I grimaced as I scrolled through literally thousands of songs, most of which I'd never heard of. He had everything from U2 to some artist named Chris Garneau, who was listed under the "indie" category. I cautiously clicked the centre button as one of his songs were highlighted. A soft crooning began to seep from the speakers as Kartik pulled recklessly accellerated, pushing us out of the parking lot and into traffic.

I glanced at my companion with an eyebrow raised as the shaky, alien voice began belting out lyrics that I couldn't even begin to understand. Kartik came dangerously close to blushing and grumbled something about changing the song. I grinned and accessed his "Recently Added" playlist, selecting the first song and setting his iPod down on the dash. Fall Out Boy blasted in from all around us as we struggled to weave through the thick layers of traffic.

"For a DJ, you listen to some pretty shitty music," I mused, referring mostly to the song I was currently hearing.

Kartik raised his head and flicked a hand at me, taking on a mockingly snobby demeanor. "You obviously don't _understand _my particular taste in music."

I rolled my eyes -something that I'd discovered I did a lot in his company- and reached over to his iPod, clicking the button that switched us over to the next song, _Sunday Bloody Sunday. _This happened to be a tune I could live with, so I sat back and pulled the gigantic bag of movies into my lap.

"Are you sure we'll be able to finish all of this tonight?" I asked, glancing doubtfully at the clock, which read _5:21. _Kartik didn't seem fazed; he glanced over at the pile and shrugged, adding in a nod to reassure me.

"Yeah. After all, we might end up _skipping _a few," he suggested, shooting me a sideways glance that I met defiantly.

"None of mine," I answered, and his shoulders fell.

"Fine."

He finally resigned himself to what was coming and focused on the road. I watched his face for a second too long before I made myself swivel my head to look out the window. The road was beginning to blur along under us as we tore free of the busy area of town and headed towards the suburbs. I fell into my head as my eyes stopped registering what was speeding past in front of them.

My memories took my back to that night, the one that had driven me here to Kartik. There was bound to be a stir eventually; someone would find Simon, whether he was dead or alive. Momentarily I wished for him to be dead and was shocked by my coldness. I knew that I wanted him dead, but seriously willing him to succumb to what I'd done to him seemed like a step too far.

Would I really rather he be cold and lifeless when the police found him than actually have a heartbeat left in his chest? Shamefully, yes. I couldn't deny that the thought of Simon drawing his last breath had allowed me to live with a shred of hope for months on end.

"Gemma? You okay?"

I jerked myself back as Kartik concernedly prompted me for an answer. He took his eyes from the road in front of him to look at me with a worried expression. We pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building with him barely glancing out the window to check where he was going. I blinked hard and made myself breath deeply and drive Simon from my thoughts. I would deal with what I'd done to him when the time came.

"I'm fine," I told Kartik with a ghostly smile. "Just zoned out, I think."

"You _would._"

I smiled at Kartik and shrugged as he looked back out the windshield and swung the car into an empty parking space, just barely screeching in between two older vehicles that provided barely any space. He shifted gears and took his foot off of the pedal, pulling his keys out of the ignition.

"Come on," he said as he swung his key ring around his finger, ducking out of the car. "We've got a lot of movies to go through."

* * *

**Hey guys, I'm sorry that it's taken this long to update... enjoy!!! :)**


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